


Formal

by fightthegiants



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, flustered!John, suggestive!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightthegiants/pseuds/fightthegiants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John & Sherlock put on their Sunday best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Formal

**Author's Note:**

> This (as well all my other Sherlock fics) were written just after Season 2 aired here in the UK. They were all over on fanfic.net but since I now use this as the platform for my writing, they're getting moved. Seems only right now that we're back on hiatus!
> 
> As ever, I don't own Sherlock Holmes & John Watson (they're Arthur's), I don't own this representation of them (they're Mark & Steven's) and I don't own Benedict & Martin (they're each others). I don't profit and all the other standard disclaimers.

“I hate ties!” John grumbled as he stood in front of the mirror fumbling with the silky material around his neck.

  
“There’s really nothing to them.” Called Sherlock from the bedroom, as he tossed aside various items of clothing.

  
“You never wear them!” John replied, his voice raising an octave with genuine fashion distress.

  
Sherlock left the bedroom and strolled into the lounge in nothing but his dark blue silk dressing gown. A deep V of smooth, milky skin was peeping at John from where Sherlock’s chest was exposed. Evidently, he hadn’t chosen anything suitable yet. John couldn’t help his eyes from wandering.

  
“Up here.” Snapped Sherlock with a playful lilt to his voice.

  
John cleared his throat and blinked a few times. He wasn’t looking. He hadn’t been looking.

  
“I can’t do this blasted thing. Why have we been invited to a charity dinner anyway?” John huffed, throwing the tie across the room. Sherlock followed the ties flight path before retrieving it.

  
“Come here, allow me? And because your handsome, talented partner helped to track down the charity’s missing donations remember?” Sherlock husked, manoeuvring John back to face the mirror. He positioned his chest against John’s back and reached around, wrapping the tie under John’s pressed collar gently. Sherlock met John’s eyes deviously in the mirror before dipping his head to plant feathery kisses on the side of John’s neck. The flustered Doctor closed his eyes and hitched the air in his throat. Sherlock’s warm breath unfurled against John’s skin like velvet causing goose bumps to rise quickly.

  
“Sherlock… ugh, we need to… ohhh …get dressed.” John managed to muster between Sherlock’s distracting kisses.

  
“I know what I’m wearing; I just need to throw it on when I’m done with you.”

  
And that summed Sherlock up really. No matter which combination of suit and shirt Sherlock threw on, he would always look sophisticated and smart. John was more rustic, he would have to put effort into making himself look good.

  
“Not now Sherlock, we’ll be late…” John trailed off as Sherlock planted a hot kiss just under his earlobe.  Sherlock looked up at John’s reflection in the mirror again, a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he straightened and disappeared back into the bedroom.

  
Moments later he reappeared in a well-tailored black suit with a deep purple shirt underneath. John cleared his throat before speaking cautiously.

  
“You look… nice.” He smiled.

  
“Thank you John. Now, shall we go?” Sherlock brushed down his lapels and collected his coat and scarf from the back of the door.

  
“But what about my tie?” John sighed, forlornly.

  
“Leave it behind; you look just as formal without it. Your suit is classic and understated, I like it on you.” Sherlock gave a sideways smile as he shrugged into his coat and fixed his scarf. John returned the smile as he reached for his coat before following Sherlock down the stairs.

  
Out on the street, the pair watched their breath cloud before them in the biting night air. Sherlock raised one slender arm to flag down a cab and as one approached; a deep, throaty laugh rumbled from Sherlock’s chest. John frowned at him.

  
“I hope your classic, understated suit looks just as good on the bedroom floor.”

  
And before John could even think about a reply, he was taken by the hand and pulled into the back of the waiting cab to begin a formal evening of dinner, champagne and the promise of satisfaction upon their return home.


End file.
